


City of Secrets

by reichtangle (JustFunctionality)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Genderbend, M/M, Magic, Malec, Multi, Plot, jimon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustFunctionality/pseuds/reichtangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon Lewis is having a great day- his band got a gig which they did amazing at, he met a few girls, and his best friend Clare is their to enjoy everything with him.<br/>Everything is going <i>wonderfully<i></i></i> until Clare and Simon fall down into a hole that doesn't seem to have an end. Chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City of Secrets

The final song starts, the faint guitar chords getting louder, thrumming slightly under the party goers’ feet like the scent of overripe peaches that gradually overcomes you. It's not quiet, people are still **laughingarguingfighting** , but nevertheless, Simon and the band continue to sing one last dance.  
Simon begins to croon into the microphone, his melodious voice like silk, or rapid waters rushing over stepping stones.  
_"I'll be your mess, you be mine,_  
_That was the deal that we had signed_  
_I brought a Hazmat suit to clean up your waste_  
_Gas masks and gloves to keep us safe_  
_But now I'm in an empty room,_  
_Staring down immaculate doom._

_The red walls are stained, bare and bleak_  
_Darling, tell me why I feel so weak_  
_We painted the world to fit right in_  
_Now I gotta clean, don't know where to begin_

_The dirt and dust accumulates_  
_Our love and trust, and all your hate_  
_Make it; make it go away, from my skin_  
_Tryin' to scrub clean, your eternal kiss. . ._

_I was your cure, but you're my disease_  
_I was saving you, but you were killing me_  
_So maybe I'm a skeptic, an addict_  
_But at least I'm still here, cleaning this rift. . ."_

The rest of the words run quickly through Simon's mind, so quickly that he can't even process them. He just closes his eyes, _this is fine this is ok_ , he thinks to himself. You've done this a million times before, this is easy.  
The final arpeggio ends, mingling with the silence, the awed quiet of the party-goers.  
When the song finally ends ( _what the hell, since when did the song end? it feels like he’s been singing for so long, and the music is still ringing from the previous songs, sweet birdsong to his weary soul_ ), Simon's head is bowed down, his dark hair sweaty and wet, his shoulders heavy with words, the weight of the wonders of the world.  
It's like theirs a dam, and there’s a huge pressure, which only ends when someone claps faintly, then a huge downpour of rain, of hands, patting Simon's back as he leaps off the gazebo, which they used as a stage.  
The hands pepper Simon's back,  _lightlysoftly_ , words of praise.  
"That was fucking amazing, man!" says a stranger, with bleached blonde hair.  
"Right?" laughs someone else, her gold hair twisted into a braid. "You’re the bomb! Seriously, that was-"  
People jostle to congratulate Simon, and Eric and Kirk and Matt, bumping the girl with the golden hair aside, and someone hands Simon a bottle of water which he promptly cracks open and pours over his head.  
They laugh at this, as Simon walks his way inside to the bar, drunk on the feeling of- _you did this, you_ \- Excitement. Exhilaration. Joy. 

0 0 0 0

Music is blaring from the speakers in the house, now that Simon and his band are done playing, a loud pumping pop song that seems to fracture Simon’s head into a million little pieces. The music makes him insane, making him want to dance all night.  
Or maybe that’s just the alcohol in his system, filtering through his blood.

Bodies are hot and sweaty as they revolve; arms raised high, spinning around and around, _fasterfasterfaster_ , bright clothes like kaleidoscopes. People sing along with the song, some swaying alone, others grinding along each other, their clothes slipping and sliding, heads thrown back, fingers clawing at each other's hair.

The people here are not individuals, no- they are one melting, whirling mess of music and light, laughter and shine. All the colors fade into one, as they- it, revolves around and around, like granules of sugar thrown into a cotton-candy machine.

There’s too many people, too many voices clashing into each other, competing to be loudest. Vying for each other's attention, pulling each other to the dance floor.  
Alcohol, and maybe something else inhibits most of the people here, causing them to be absolutely crazy. And loud, and angry. It makes them do and say things they’d never do without the poison in their veins.  
It doesn’t matter, though. Their voices are like birds wings, high in the sky, and unimportant. Simon is still buzzing from the high of being known.   
Simon shakes his head, trying to breathe- but the air is too hot, and sticky. He raises his glass of beer to his lips and downs it, trying to cool off. He raises the now empty glass to his cheek, placing the cool glass there, letting the condensation collect on his hot skin. Simon laughs giddily, wiping sweat off of his forehead with his hand, and stumbles his way outside.

The air is scented with the sweet stink of sweat, and of night flowering jasmine, making the air heavy with their sweet perfume, almost suffocating.  
It's not any quieter outside, maybe even louder.  
A familiar red-head catches his attention.  
“Clare!” warbles Simon, jostling with others as he tries to push his way through the turmoil of bodies. “Hey, Fray!”  
Clare turns around from where's he's talking to someone, and grins at the sight of him, then his expression changes into one of disbelief.  
"Simon Lewis, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!" he shouts sternly- well, as sternly as he can, as he battles with everyone else's intoxicated words. " My God, that was amazing- are you  _drunk_?"  
Simon shrugs, and the glass slips from his hands onto the floor. "Well then," he says, looking down at the broken glass.  
He raises his heel to step on it, but Clare shoves him away from the broken glass.  
"Are you _insane_?" he demands, pushing him to the sidewalk and out of the upheaval of people- it, them at the party.  
Simon smiles blithely, tugging at his flaming hair. "Clare, where are you laking me? Taking me. Taking me?"  
“To my house. Your mom will freak if I take you to your house, so, you’re coming to my house. Besides, Joscelin isn’t home.”  
“What? Repeat that, one more time, please,” Simon manages to slur.  
"My god," Clare mutters, just loud enough so Simon can pick up and decipher his words. Which is actually really hard, with his ears so bloated and ringing from all those drinks. "How much did you drink?"  
“I don’t know,” Simon says, singing the words like a lullaby.  
They walk silently down the sidewalk, to the subway. Simon sways gently; his thoughts whirl in his head, **_brightbrightbright_  **colours that explode like fireworks, making him want to vomit.  
“Clare, Clary,” Simons groans, clutching at his stomach. “Wait, one second, pleeeease.”  
Clare huffs, but lets Simon lean against him, as he tries to sort through the wordscoloursthoughts in his head.  
“Simon, come on, we have to go,” Clare says as he strides forward, dragging Simon in tow.  
But what’s that gaping black hole puncturing the broken asphalt of the sidewalk? It’s not a pothole, no. It’s literally just a abyss, like a hole in reality. Clare doesn’t notice it, just keeps walking forward.  
“No, Clare stop!” Simon shouts, trying to pull Clare back. But this is a fight between someone sober, and a drunk. “Stop!”  
“What?” Clare asks, not stopping, clearly annoyed.  
“Don’t you see it?”  
“See what?” Clary says, exasperated. “Hurry up.”  
Simon wrenches his hand out of Clare’s. “Please, Clare, don’t.”  
Clare rolls his eyes and keeps walking forward, into the endless chasm. And disappears, his scream echoing back out.  
Simon leaps in after him without a second thought, down into the rabbit hole. 

**Author's Note:**

> All comments will be appreciated! Please tell me if I have any grammar/spelling mistakes, as I do not have a beta reader/editor as of now. Any volunteers?
> 
> I had this idea boiling in my head about a year ago(inspired by Once Upon A Time), and then I forgot it about it. It resurfaced four months ago and I wrote the plot, and I forced myself to write the first chapter two months ago. (whoo, procrastination)


End file.
